


How a Hero is Reborn

by boredomsMuse



Series: Miraculous Reborn [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Rewritting an old story, now that we know more about the show and everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-05-23 16:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14937623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredomsMuse/pseuds/boredomsMuse
Summary: Some heroes are born, some heroes are made.  All heroes die.But some heroes come back.





	1. The Ladyblog

**Author's Note:**

> So I was most the way through a rewrite, abandoned that for a few months, came back and decided to start again. Somethings have changed a lot, some things have changed a little, some things haven't changed at all. Please enjoy.
> 
> [ Also, if you like my writing, it'd be really cool if you could check out this writing related thing i'm trying to set up here](http://kails-musings.tumblr.com/post/174812529530/lgbta-monthly-stories)

Paris passed in a blur of colour and shape as the car travelled towards it’s unapproved destination.  Félix Agreste watched from his seat’s window, completely unmoved by the scenery.  After months away he supposed the city should hold some sense of… something.  Wasn’t he meant to have missed it?  Suddenly find beauty in the things that had always been mundane?  He didn’t.  The streets here were no more special than the streets had been in London, the buildings no more important. 

“How was England?”  Nathalie finally spoke, her posture perfectly professional as she sat across from him – back straight, hands resting lightly on her lap, legs crossed at the ankles.  Seconds ago, her attention had been on the device now resting by her side, as it had been from the moment she and Gorilla had picked him up at the airport.  She’d hardly spoken a word beyond formalities in the twenty minutes since.

“England was cold.”  Félix answered flatly.  He had no interest in her belated effort for ‘polite’ conversation.  No doubt she just wanted to disperse the awkward silence now she had no work to distract her.  Félix kept his attention on the passing scenery, feeling no more sense of home here than he had in London.

“A lot has happened while you’ve been away.”  Nathalie tried again.  _I’ve been away, not dead_ , Félix thought bitterly.  Just because she and his father had made no effort to keep him updated did not mean he was clueless.

“I would imagine so.”  He said, annoyance and sarcasm kept from his words by a lifetime of practice.  The car began to slow, finally nearing where he was not supposed to be.

“I can’t imagine your father will be happy you’re here instead of meeting with him.”  Nathalie commented, despite having made no attempt to stop him.  Likely she knew it would have been fruitless.

“I suspect he won’t be.”  Was all Félix had to say on the matter.  He stepped from the car as it stopped, before she could say something as equally pointless as the rest of their ‘conversation’.  Taking in the building before him, the first thing to come to mind was Chloé.  He wished she would stop doing things that weren’t completely and utterly detestable, it didn’t suit her.

There was still time to be wasted before the school day ended and Félix supposed he could have wasted that time in the car.  Instead he walked to the school’s entrance and began looking through his emails without really reading any of them.  If there was something he’d missed less than the Paris streets it was the claustrophobic feeling of that car.  When the bell finally rang he turned his attention to the students pouring from the school doors.

Félix heard him before he saw him.

“That’s what you get for playing video games instead of studying.”  Adrien sounded happy, genuinely happy.  Félix had been able to tell as much over the phone but… well it was different to hear in person.  It took a moment to spot Adrien, walking with three others, a boy to his left and two girls to his right.  He hadn’t noticed Félix. but Félix didn’t call out just yet.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Adrien sound like that around anyone that wasn’t him.  Chloé not included, she didn’t count.

“I doubt you did any worse than Marinette.”  The girl at the edge of the group claimed.

“Thanks, Alya.”  The second, likely Marinette, mumbled.

“Try not to worry too much Marinette.”  Adrien tried to assure, smiling at the shorter girl.  “I heard everyone else talking about how hard the test was, I’m sure you’re not the only two that failed.”  He went on, possibly in a misguided effort to cheer up the people to either side of him.

“You guys aren’t helping.”  The other boy groaned.  They were about to pass him, so Félix made to announce himself.

“What are _you_ doing here?”  A screeching tone beat him to it.  Félix turned to find Chloé looking the same as ever – standing as though she owned the world and didn’t approve of it, with a frown on her face and hands on her hips.  Trailing behind her was a girl Félix didn’t know, and he doubted he wanted to.

“Generally, when one completes their abroad studies they return home Chloé.  I thought that was common knowledge, even for you, but perhaps I’ve given you too much credit.  Won’t happen again.”  He said, keeping his expression and tone perfectly neutral.  She hadn’t been able to get a rise out of him in years.

“I was asking why you’re at _my_ school.”  The spoilt girl snapped, glaring in that self-entitled way she always had.

“I thought that would be obvious.  Then again, we _have_ just discovered you’re even stupider than I remember and can’t seem to think for yourself.  I’m here to pick up my brother.”  Said brother had noticed him now and was grinning widely as he made his way over.

“Félix!”  Adrien cheered.  “I didn’t know you were getting home today, you weren’t meant to be back until the holidays.”  He sounded anything by disappointed.

“I sat my tests early.”  Félix shrugged, as though that were no big deal.  Now within arm’s reach of each other, Adrien wasn’t no time in wrapping his arms around Félix.  Were he anyone else, Félix would never have allowed it.  But Adrien had never been and would never be just anyone else.  Félix returned the hug, if a bit more stiffly than Adrien offered it.

“I missed you,” Adrien mumbled into his shoulder.

“Surely you’ve forgotten me with these new friends of yours.”  Félix teased, gesturing to the three that had followed Adrien over.

“I was talking!”  Chloé shouted for attention, ruining the perfectly nice moment they were having.  Letting go of Adrien, Félix rolled his eyes at her.

“You never do seem to stop doing that.”  He glared.  A lesser man who hadn’t known Chloé their entire life might’ve flinched at the look she sent him in reply.  Adrien’s friends looked more than happy he was taking Chloé down a peg, which was certainly a point in the positive for their characters.

“Well,” the girl with dyed hair interrupted, “aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh right!”  Adrien grinned.  “Guys, this is Félix, my twin brother.  Félix this are my friends, Nino, Marinette, and Alya.  The one’s I told you about in my calls.”  Adrien gestured to each of the three in turn before gesturing to Chloé’s shadow.  “And that’s Sabrina.”

“A pleasure.”  Félix acknowledged the three friends.  He didn’t bother to remember the shadow’s name.

“So _you’re_ the mysterious Félix.”  Nino grinned, moving to put an around the named boy’s shoulder.  Félix was quick to move out of the way and shoot Nino a cold look for the attempted contact.  The boy just shrugged and instead offered his hand.  “Any enemy of Chloé’s is a friend of mine.”

“Likewise.”  Félix nodded slightly, ignoring the hand.

“Why have you heard of him but I haven’t?”  Alya frowned at Nino and Adrien, hands on her hips.

“Uh, because I’m his best friend?  Duh.”  Nino answered with a grin.  Behind the group, Chloé complained about her lack of attention to her shadow before flipping her hair and storming off with the other in step behind her.

“So?  _I’m_ a journalist.  I have to know everything!”  Alya huffed.  She turned to Félix and smiled widely.  “I’m Alya Césaire, editor and writer for the LadyBlog.  Nice to meet you.”

“The LadyBlog?”  Félix prompted, frowning slightly.

“Félix has spent the last few months in England,” Adrien explained to his friends.  “He doesn’t know about the LadyBlog, sorry Alya.”

“That’s fine.”  Alya brushed off.  “You’ll just have to check it out the moment you get home.”  She added, grinning ear to ear in a such a way that Félix felt mildly threatened.

“Alya.”  The final member of the group scolded her friend lightly.  “It’s nice to meet you Félix.  We were just on our way to study at my house, would you like to come?”  She offered with a kind smile.  Félix looked back to the limo, where he could barely make out Nathalie talking on the phone.  His father wouldn’t be happy about the further delay.

“I would be delighted.”  He accepted, sending a quick text to Gorilla only once the five of them were out of sight of the school and car.

* * *

Adrien’s friends kept steady, comfortable conversation the whole way to Marinette’s house.  It wasn’t the polite small talk Félix had grown accustomed to.  It was… nicer?  Less stressful?  Happier?  Whatever the word, Félix was glad his brother had that.  Although he found he didn’t have much input in the conversation at all.  In fact, he’d said three things the entire conversation.  The first when Alya had asked his opinion on something (“Break the tie Félix, what movies better?”  “The Titanic, obviously, I’m offended you would even ask.”), the second when Nino had asked about England (“Did they have funny accents?  Did you sing God Save the Queen?  Did you go on the London Eye?” “I got used to the accents, no I didn’t sing, yes I went on the London Eye.  How is any of this important information?”), and the last when Adrien had mentioned him (“Félix is the better gamer, he doesn’t even try!”  “That’s because I’m perfect Adrien.”).  It wasn’t until someone mentioned Marinette’s latest project that Félix actively joined in on the conversation.

“You design clothes?”  He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  Marinette flushed slightly with everyone's attention suddenly on her.

“Not professionally or anything, it’s really just a hobby.”  She dismissed.

“Are you kidding girl?”  Alya scoffed at her friend’s modesty.  “Marinette is an amazing designer.”

“Yeah, don’t sell yourself short Marinette.”  Adrien grinned at her and she just blushed darker.  Félix fought the urge to roll his eyes.  Adrien had often lamented, in phone calls, that Marinette seemed so awkward around him – constantly flushing and stuttering though she wasn’t near so shy around everyone else.  He was convinced he’d done something to offend her.  Even from another country, Marinette’s affections might as well have been a flashing neon sign. 

“Check out her designs.”  Nino grinned, holding out a sketchbook and making sure to keep it out of Marinette’s reach when she grabbed for it.

“How did you get that?!”  She squeaked.  Nino didn’t reply, just passed it over.  Félix levelled an incredibly unimpressed look as he took it, but Nino didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“Do you mind if I look?”  He asked Marinette, holding the book out to her and ignoring Nino’s ‘come on man’.  Honestly. 

“I…I guess, um, it’s okay.”  Marinette mumbled after a moment, looking a little surprised he’d even asked.  “It’s no big deal really, just don’t except anything too amazing.”  Content with her permission, Félix began to flick through the pages.

“These are really good.”  He commented as he judged the designs.  They really were impressive, unpolished by industry standards perhaps but that was nothing a professional course wouldn’t help.

“They’re okay.”  Marinette shrugged awkwardly.

“Don’t be so modest Marinette!  They’re amazing.”  Adrien praised, making Marinette stutter and duck her very, very red face.  _Oh yes Adrien_ , Félix thought sarcastically, _you most certainly make her uncomfortable, I can’t imagine what you did_. 

“Are you as good at making them as you are designing them?”  Félix asked.

“She is!”  Alya answered before Marinette could downplay her skills once more.  “They look even better once they’re made.  She’s working on this one at the moment.”  The girl flicked the book a few pages forward to a shoulder-less dress with short sleeves and a frilled, knee-length skirt.  The dress had a ladybug print with a blue ribbon around the waist.  “It’s inspired by Ladybug, obviously.”

“Ladybug?”  Félix frowned, not understanding why the word seemed to catch in his throat for a moment.

“I haven’t mentioned her?”  Adrien asked, looking shocked with himself while Alya looked downright insulted.

“It… sounds familiar, assuming of course you don’t mean the actual bug.”  Félix shrugged.  He was sure Adrien hadn’t mentioned any Ladybug though, he only ever talked about school and his friends.  Yet the name did sound familiar.  Félix didn’t know how to classify the emotions he stirred. 

“Ladybug is Paris’ heroine!”  Alya announced loudly.  “She’s so cool!”

“She really is amazing.”  Adrien agreed, almost swooning.  It just proved further that he hadn’t mentioned her to Félix. 

“I’ll make sure to look her up when I get home.”  He said dismissively, trying to push away the feelings.  He kind of… wanted to cry.  What was wrong with him?  “They’re amazing designs Marinette.  Let me know when you’ve finished making the current dress.”  Félix shifted the topic back to something safe.  He understood fashion and design.

“S-sure.”  Marinette stuttered, cradling the sketchbook against her chest.  Adrien quickly launched into an explanation about how Félix was the brains of the company and he the beauty.  Félix felt more comfortable being pulled into this conversation, because it was something he knew.  Something he understood.  What he didn’t understand was the almost nostalgic feeling the friendly conversation stirred.  He’d never had a group of friends before, it had always just been him and Adrien.  So why was he feeling so oddly?

Tucking that feeling away with the one about Ladybug, Félix tried to ignore them both.

* * *

Marinette’s mother greeted the five with a smile when they arrived.  Adrien had clearly been over multiple times, Félix noted, as she greeted him with familiarity and warmth.  He as introduced afterwards and for a moment Mrs Dupain-Cheng looked pale and surprised, like she’d seen a ghost for all the line was a cliché.  Félix frowned but didn’t get the chance to question the expression before Marinette was rushing the group upstairs to the living room.

“Snacks!”  Alya announced once they’d all sat down.  “Marinette we forgot to grab snacks, you and Adrien should go get some.  He’ll know what Félix likes.”

“Oh right, can’t study on an empty stomach.”  Nino quickly agreed, patting his stomach for emphasis.  If this was a normal occurrence, they were as obvious as Marinette.  Félix didn’t hold back his eye rolling.

“Sure.”  Adrien smiled, completely oblivious.  He stood and let a blushing, awkward Marinette led him downstairs.

...

Without the two, or really just without Adrien, an awkward silence settled over the living room.  Félix was tempted to pull out his phone, just to have something to do, but he was rather sure that would count as rude.  So instead he just sat and subtly looked around the room.  It was small, tiny compared to his, but it was warm in a way the Agreste house could no longer manage.  It was nice.

“So….”  Nino tried to break the silence.  “Adrien said you went to London to study business, right?” 

“Yes.”  Félix answered stiffly.  Argh.  Small talk.  “Father intends to spilt the company between us, it’s only right I should be prepared for that.”

“Then how come Adrien didn’t go?”  Alya quickly asked, grinning like a cat about to knock over a glass of water.  Félix frowned at her in a way that quickly shot down the smile.

“He’s uninterested in such things.”  He said.  It was a sore spot he refused to admit to even himself.  Adrien was their fathers favourite, he couldn’t bear to send the younger away for any period of time.  But Félix?  Who was just as bored to death by the subject?  Why, for him it was a necessity of collecting his inheritance.  It was a sore subject for Félix.

The room settled into another awkward silence.  This time, Félix didn’t feel the need not to seem rude.  He pulled his phone from his pocket and promptly ignored the lack of messages from the father he was meant to meet _hours_ ago.  Alya and Nino begun quietly talking between themselves. 

All three were more than a little relieved when Adrien and Marinette returned with a tray of baked goods and five plates, one of which had a few slices of cheese on it.  Félix frowned when Adrien kept that plate, since when did his brother like cheese?

* * *

 

The study session was completely unproductive.  The group hardly even opened their books, too distracted by gossip and joking around.  It was an utter waste of time to go, and Félix could feel his blood boiling throughout the hours.

But then he’d look over at Adrien.

Félix couldn’t remember the last time his brother had seemed so genuinely happy around other people.  There was no tension in his shoulders, no hesitance in his laughter.  So, the night wasn’t a complete waste.  Not when Adrien was having so good a time.  Besides, what did Félix care about revising classroom facts?  Especially ones he’d long since covered.

By the time they arrived home Adrien’s good mood hadn’t wavered.  He was still laughing as he and Félix discussed the evening they’d had.  Adrien’s good mood had always been contagious, Félix couldn’t help but smile a little.  He couldn’t believe he was actually _smiling_ as he walked into the house he’d been free from for months.

It was much easier to believe when the good mood died upon seeing Nathalie.  She was waiting for them at the door, standing strict and stern as ever.

“Your father would like to see you in his office Félix.”  She informed, not even bothering with a simple hello.  Félix supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t be disappointed at the cold welcome.  What had he been expecting?  Especially when he had avoided this very meeting.  Still, he couldn’t help but frown.

“You haven’t seen father yet?”  Adrien asked, his frown much more concerned than bitter.  Of course he’d figure that out.  Heaven forbid their father actually had time for them.  Félix took a deep breath, trying to centre himself and push the… _anger_ , it was anger, away. 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, walking from the foyer to the door of his father’s office.  He hesitated another moment, checking his sweater for crumbs and making sure he looked presentable before finally knocking.

He had certainly not been stalling.  Just as he hadn’t been stalling all day.  No, he had simply wanted to see his brother.  There had been no ulterior motives.

“Come in.”  His father’s voice was as cold and demanding as he remembered, and Félix couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine at hearing it.  They’d hardly spoken since Félix had left, merely exchanging the occasional, professional email that Félix assumed his father didn’t even write or read.  He hadn’t missed their face to face interactions.  He hadn’t.  With a final deep breath, Félix pushed into the office.

Félix didn’t need to convince himself he hadn’t missed the office.  It was large and brightly lit but felt as cold and oppressive as the man who spent most of his time in it.  Félix walked at a steady pace to the front of the father’s desk, where he knew himself expected to stand, and wished the room were smaller.

“Good evening Father.”  He greeted, receiving no such pleasantries himself.

“You were supposed to report to me first thing after you arrived.”  Mr Agreste stated.

“I know.”  Félix knew there was no point in lying or pretending he’d forgotten.

“Then why didn’t you?”  Gabriel demanded without raising his voice.  He rarely raised his voice.  But then, he was rarely around to do so.

“I deduced it was about Adrien, and therefore I wanted to see him first.  So I could have a better understanding of any issues you wanted to discuss.”  He answered, tone carefully even, back straight.  “I knew it could not have been work, as I checked the servers before my flight and there seemed nothing you may want my opinion on.  Nor could it be about school, as I sent you that report days again.  My apologies if I misunderstood.”  It was flawless logic, in Félix’s own opinion, because his father only ever wanted to discuss those three topics.  Surely the man had had no grand plans of greeting his returning son.  Or intentions to ask how he was.  He never did.  Mr Agreste was silent a moment, frowning at Félix the way he always did.

Months.  Month’s he’d been gone, and not a thing had changed.

“You were not wrong.”  The adult eventually confirmed.  Félix refused to let his shoulders drop in relief.  “I am concerned about Adrien’s schooling.  He was so determined to attend a public one, but I fear it may be detrimental to his social and academic standards.  His relations with the Bourgeois girl had gotten notably worse and his grades are no longer perfect.  I would like you to start attending his school, to examine if it’s doing more harm than good.  I understand It may be hard for you to settle in with the class, given how late you’ll be enrolling, and I wouldn’t be surprised if your brother was of little help in that aspect, he’s become quite enamoured with his low-class friends.  However, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle such challenges.”

That last part almost threw Félix for a loop.  Since when did his father care about that sort of thing?  Why even mention it at all?  It was incredibly suspicious to the young heir.

But then, the entire task was incredibly suspicious.  Félix had just returned from his final studies, the plan he’d had no say in was to begin right away.  Adrien’s grades couldn’t’ve slipped that much, and their father had never cared much for Chloé.  There was something else, he was sure of it.

“I’d be more than happy to keep an eye on him for you.”  Félix agreed.  There was never any point arguing with their father.  There never had been.

“Good, you are dismissed.”  Félix didn’t expect a thank you, a welcome home.  He didn’t want one.  He slipped outside the room quickly, finally letting the tension bleed from his body only once he was leaning against the other side of thick, wooden door.  He even allowed himself a moment to slouch, just a moment.

Months, almost a year away from home.

Adrien was only thing in all of Paris that he’d missed, and likely the only one who’d missed him.

* * *

 

Félix found Adrien in his room, already half-finished with the blanket fort.  Snacks rested on the bedside table and there was that cheese again.  His soured mood fading slightly, Félix helped finish the fort and they spent the rest of the night catching up while not paying attention to movies.  He announced the good news, leaving out their father’s motives and how suspicious Félix was of them, and Adrien happily began ranting about why he loved school so much.  Félix had heard it a hundred times before, but he didn’t stop him.  School mattered to Adrien, Félix wouldn’t mind listening to him a thousand times.

It was nice and comfortable.  Félix had never felt so at home.

Except, a small voice at the back of his mind whispered, he was lying.  He wasn’t sure how he could be, but it still felt like a lie.  Félix ignored the voice.

“I’m going for a shower,” Adrien said a few hours after they started talking, carefully leaving the simple fort they’d made.  “I’m using your bathroom.”  He added when he was too close to adjoined room for Félix to protest.  Not that he would have anyway.

There was still a movie playing but Félix didn’t bother to start watching it now.  Instead he grabbed his laptop from the carryon bag Gorilla had likely unpacked and started it up.  He’d made a promise to one of Adrien’s friends, he remembered, to check out her blog.  That was, obviously, the only reason he searched up the Ladyblog.  It had nothing to do with the content he knew would be awaiting him.

The first post he saw turned out to be the results of a recent poll.

**_What is Chat Noir to Ladybug?_ **

_Partner: 20%_  
Sidekick: 27%  
Boyfriend: 53%

_The overwhelming majority confirms it!  To Paris, our resident heroes look as though they must be in love, and I for one think they’re adorable together!!!_

Chat Noir.

The name sparked emotions Félix could hardly decipher.  Anger, foreboding, grief, shame.  He tried to tell himself he’d never heard it before.  Just like he’d never heard of Ladybug before, or had friends like Adrien’s, or a home he would’ve missed.

He hadn’t.

It felt like a lie, a lie that was giving him a headache.  Félix didn’t understand it, couldn’t put his finger on _why_. 

At least, he couldn’t until he scrolled down to the next post.  An article, titled ‘ ** _Another successful save!_** ’.  Beneath the large text was an image of two people, fist-bumping.  He knew they were Ladybug and Chat Noir, but it felt _wrong_.  Those faces didn’t match those names, those outfits weren’t right.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back.


	2. True Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm not sure why this took me over a month to update? Like this had literally been sitting there to be beta read since before I uploaded the first chapter. I'm going to blame my 3 week holiday, [ and this story I've uploaded for tapas writers camp. It'd be awesome if you guys wanted to check it out, it's actually also me exploring the idea of a being reborn after saving the world.](https://tapas.io/episode/1139182)
> 
> Thanks so much for the patience, and the kudos, and the comments, and the bookmarks. Every single one motivates me to continue (especially the comments, and bookmark tags), and i super appreciate all of them <3

His memories returned with a force that was physically painful.  Félix felt as though he’d been slammed in the gut, doubling over and wheezing as he blinked back the tears. 

Curiosity killed the cat, wasn’t that the saying?  He’d certainly been curious enough to open that ring box.  Certainly been curious enough to call ‘claws out’.   To call it again and again rather than just settle into his new, slightly more frustrating life.

He’d certainly been killed.

Oh god, he’d _died_.

Félix didn’t want to remember.  He didn’t.  He wanted to go back to England and forget completely about this Ladybug and Chat Noir.  Ignorance is bliss, and he desperately wanted his ignorance back.  He didn’t want to remember.

The room had been so bright, but artificially so.  Lit with the kind of lights that made the world feel a little bit off, that didn’t flicker but still planted that seed of dread.  In all his days there they’d not once been turned off.  He’d spent hour after hour in a room lit well enough that he could see the blood-stained drill, watch as the Collector pondered over which knife he wanted to use.  The walls had been dreadfully white, as had the floor.  At first, anyway.  Over the days they’d been strained red.

He remembered screaming, tearing his vocal cords apart as pain consumed his every nerve.  His screams had rebounded off those walls, he was sure he could hear them even when he stopped.  Even when he had no more screams to give.  Or maybe that had been Plagg.

Every inch of him had ached constantly, throbbed endlessly.  Félix had grown used to the feeling of blood on his skin.  He’d grown used to a clawing under his skin.  The kwami weren’t conscious when they took their miraculous form, that’s what they’d thought.  They’d been wrong.  Maybe it had to do with the extended usage of his form, maybe it was the risk to his life. Or maybe Plagg had been aware the whole time and simply pretended otherwise.  Félix wasn’t sure, he’d been in too much pain to theorize.  All he’d known was Plagg was aware of what he was doing, and the kwami of destruction was against it.

Félix remembered he hadn’t cared.  It didn’t matter what Plagg thought, or what the others would think when they found him, or how much it hurt.  The only thing that mattered was keeping Plagg safe and out of the Collector’s hands.  The Collector could torture him all the man wanted.  Plagg could try everything to force his way out of the ring.  Félix would fight them both.  He’d die before he gave in.

And he did.

Félix remembered it clearly now.

The lights were so much brighter, glaring into his eyes as he looked up at them.  He should look away, he thought, doing so with an incredible amount of effort.  The sound of his cheek hitting the puddle of blood made him grimace.

What a sight he must’ve been.  Chat Noir, sprawled out in his own blood.  Chest likely deformed what with every rib feeling broken.  A couple had pierced his lungs, Félix was sure of it.  His noise was smashed, a bloody mess that could never have been fixed.  There were nicks and bruises all over his body, the latter only somewhat hidden by the tattered remains of his suit.  There were holes where there shouldn’t be holes, and leather scraps stuck into them.  The worst were the ones drilled right through his hands and feet, through the bone and muscle and nerves.  He was missing both pinkies, his left thumb, his right index finger, the ligaments sawed off through the leather of his gloves.  A blunt knife had been stabbed through his shoulder, and his chest.  Félix was sure even more damage had been done but he couldn’t remember anymore.

The Collector had said his others, his _friends_ , were here.  He’d promised he’d done his damnedest to make sure they found Félix dead and disfigured.  Félix knew odds were the Collector would get what he wanted.

 _Just this once_ , he’d silently pleaded, _just this once let me be the good kind of lucky_.  _Let them find me before I die_.  He knew he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.  Félix was okay with that, really.  He’d come to terms with it early on.  But he needed to know Plagg was safe, he needed to know they were safe.

He needed to apologize.

Félix blinked slowly, his eyes on that damn door.  It was open, it was always open.  But he’d been too well chained up to get to it, and now he was too weak to call out let alone walk out.  He hated that door.  His eyes slide shut.

“Chat!”  The familiar voice sounded distant and for a moment Félix felt hopeless.  His luck was still cursed.  Then he forced his eyes open and saw the red-clad foot in the door.

“Don’t look Mari.”  He warned, voice weak and protesting at it’s use.  Even if he wanted to be found, he didn’t really want them to see him like this, they didn’t need that.  Mari gasped, and he knew she hadn’t listened, or maybe she hadn’t heard him.

“Félix.”  She breathed out.  It was still weird to hear her say his name, but he was so glad she’d found out before all this.  Ladybug took a small step towards him and then another, and then suddenly she was kneeling beside him desperately trying to stop the bleeding.  It was a fruitless attempt.  “He’s in here!”  She screamed behind her.  “Hurry!”

“I told you not to look, my Lady.”  Félix managed a smirk, or he hoped he did anyway.  His eyelids felt so heavy, but he forced them open, forced himself to look up at her.  It was so hard.  Tears bubbled down her face, her nose was running.  Ladybug did not cry often, but she cried quickly.  He wanted to raise his hand to comfort her, but his fingers twitched, and he remembered he was missing some.  Félix wasn’t sure he had the energy to lift his hand anyway.

“Chat stop joking around!”  She said, desperately reaching for angry but only managing a sob.  So different from the last time they spoke.  “How, how did this happen?  The suits meant to protect you!”

“It’s not unbreakable Ladybug, we knew that.”  Félix sighed.  “I’m sorry you have to see me like this Mari, but I had to protect Plagg.  If he thought removing the ring would trap Plagg in me, he wouldn’t be able to get him.  He was trying to force Plagg out.”  He explained, voice getting weaker and weaker as he spoke.  But she had to know why.  The exact reason.  He didn’t want her making one up and blaming herself.  She likely would anyway.

“It should have been me.”  Ladybug whimpered.

“No.”  Félix said, the strongest thing he’d said since he stopped screaming.  “Don’t you dare say that.  Better me than any of you.”  Would anyone outside the team even miss him?  After everything, would the team even miss him anymore?  Félix tried not to think about it.

“We’ll get you help.”  She decided, trying for firm and not managing that either.  “You’ll be okay.”  Félix sighed.  She’d always been too stubborn for her own good, mask or no mask.

“You need to take him.”  He said, painstakingly raising his ringed hand to her.

“No.”  She quickly refused, shaking her head quickly before bringing one now blood-strained hand up to wipe her eyes.  “No, you can’t give up the ring.  Not until your curse is done.”

“It’ll be gone soon Ladybug.”  Félix assured, forcing another smile because he needed her to know he was fine with this.  It was fine.

“I won’t kiss you Chat.  Not now, not ever.”  She argued, sentence broken up by sobs.

“Ah, and here I thought it might finally be _paw_ -sible.”  The blond managed, still smiling.  He’d die with a smile on his face, he decided, they’d know he was okay if he died with a smile on his face.  Or not, Félix thought with a pained laugh, after all he’d never been one to smile while alive.  “Just my luck.”  His eyelids felt so heavy.  They slipped shut, he couldn’t stop it.

The ground pounded as a group of people rushed towards the room.  He wasn’t going to make it.  Félix wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.  That thought hurt more than dying.

“Tell them goodbye for me Mari.”  He breathed, because that was the best he could do.  “Tell them I’m sorry, for everything.”

“Félix!”  A male voice screamed.  It was the last thing he heard.

Just his luck.

* * *

 

Félix finally pulled himself free from the memory with a desperate gasp.  He stared, wide-eyed and panting, at the blankets of the now destroyed fort.  There was no confusing his bedroom for the room he’d died in, and he was grateful the lights were off and the window open.  Still, for one heart-stopping moment, Félix couldn’t be sure he was alive.

But no, no he _had_ to be alive.  Félix could hear the shower running and Adrien’s soft humming.  The breeze from outside was cold against his skin.  His heart was definitely beating, incredibly loudly, and phantom pains danced along his every inch.  Surely, if he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to experience any such sensations.  He was alive, he was _alive_ , and he was breathing.  He _had_ to be.

Proving his heartbeat did nothing to calm Félix’s thoughts however, simply replaced the old terror with a new one.  Had he even died at all?  Was he just having some kind of mental break?  It seemed so impossible, after all.  Félix needed proof.  Something more concrete than memories.

Still having trouble breathing, he snatched his laptop from where it had fallen and opened a new tab.  He scoured the internet desperately for any sign of himself or his team, not sure what he really wanted to find.  Ladybug and Chat Noir brought up only articles upon articles of the strangers in his place.  No-where mentioned any previous heroes or Paris.  Searching his team brought even worse results.

They were nowhere.  _Kid Mime.  Mercury.  Gavroche.  Melodie_.  The names meant nothing at all to anyone anywhere.  Even The Collector brought nothing.

Just as he was about to give up, to accept he’d had a very realistic nightmare (or try to anyway), Félix decided to search himself.  Not as Chat Noir, but as Félix Agreste.  When that brought only current praise for his achievements, he added his old birthdate.  It was a date that came to mind much too easily.

Félix stared at loaded page.

He’d found himself.

In fact, the very first article was about his death.  Hands shaking, Félix clicked it.

It wasn’t very graphic, but it was graphic enough for Félix to be sure it was him.  He’d remembered dying like that, remembered every injury.  But there were details that were wrong too.  The article claimed his killer to have been connected to hundreds of disappearances worldwide, and that it had been a classmate who’d found him when she was led to the warehouse.  Mari.  His Ladybug.  Technically, that’s how he remembered it.  But the article didn’t mention The Collector, or his team.  How was that _possible_?   Everyone knew about the Collector, knew about his team. 

Except, apparently, they didn’t.  His team, The Collector, it was like they’d never existed.  In their place was some new Ladybug and Chat Noir that helped people with their shitty personal problems.  Félix scoffed, glaring at his laptop and telling himself he _wasn’t_ crying. 

This wasn’t fair.  For years, he’d been cursed while he saved the city and the world.  They had lost so much juggling their civilian lives and their heroic ones, and this was how Paris repaid them?  By erasing every mention of them like they’d never mattered at all?  By replacing them with some amateurs?

Félix clicked back to the Ladyblog and scanned over the reports of their various fights.  How could these people be their replacements?  They were horrible.  Children playing at superheroes and failing miserably.

How could Plagg have chosen someone so unlike himself?

It wasn’t even just the incompetence of the new Chat Noir, there were so many differences.  This one seemed less… feline then he’d been.  He was less wild, always seemed to wait for his precious Ladybug’s command.  A glorified sidekick.  Had Félix been so horrible that Plagg went for his polar opposite?

Bitterness and anger and loneliness swelled in his heart, clouded his rational thought.  A set of light blue eyes were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Ah, such jealously and hurt.”  Papillon observed with a smirk.  He couldn’t tell what Félix was thinking, could not know the past the boy was regaining and losing all at once, but he could sense his emotions and that was enough for the villain to come to his own conclusions.

“Hardly gone a year and yet he’s been all but forgotten in favour of new friends.”  The man decided.  He opened his hand and watched as one of his many butterflies flew to him.  “This will suit my plans perfectly.”    

Félix was too distracted to see the moth that flew into his ring, and once it had he didn’t question the purple mask that appeared over his eyes.

“ _Poor boy, you do not deserve to feel so much pain.”_   A deep, authoritative voice suddenly filled his ears.  The words seemed to narrow his focus, direct all his attention to his negative emotions and away from his rational thought.  “ _You have been forgotten, but I can help you.  I can give you the power to make all of Paris feel your pain.  All I ask in return is that you bring me what it is I desire most.”_

Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Félix knew he should refuse.  There were so many things wrong with this sudden situation, his logic tried to argue.  But that part of his mind had been all but silenced the moment his ring had been infected.  Félix couldn’t think past the revenge he was being offered.  He wanted it.  He _needed_ it.

“Yes.”  Félix answered into empty air, voice a breath in the wind.  “I will make them pay.”  He announced, practically growling as he stood from the bed.  He didn’t notice his laptop falling away, could no longer hear the shower running in the other room.  The voice in his ear chuckled.

“Very good.  True Justice, you will be my champion.”  It said.  A familiar sensation of power crawled along his skin, bubbling up and transforming him.  Félix was too far gone to notice how _wrong_ it felt.  The bitter taste it left in his mouth, the way his vision seemed rose tinted and hazy at the edges.  He stepped up to the mirror, the way he once had a lifetime ago.

Félix’s new outfit was practically identical to his old one.  An angular mask and a suit of leather that covered his form almost entirely, merging into claw-tipped gloves and disappearing under half-thigh length boots.  His large collar was propped up, framing the impractical and oversized gold bell.  A belt wrapped twice around his waist, with an angular cat-face shaped buckle on one side and his leather tail on the other.  The tail, like the cat ears above his hair, moved as though they were part of him.  Even his longer, raggedy hair and his fangs were back. 

The only difference was the colour scheme.  Where once he’d been dressed in shades of black and grey, now he was dressed in the inverted colours of his old partner.  True Justice, a mix of the Chat Blanc and Ladybug of old.  Not those copycats souring their place.

Scowling at his reflection, True Justice slipped out the window and into the night.  Adrien showered on, completely forgotten and completely unaware.

* * *

There was a lot of hassle in using Cataclysm.  The power required a ridiculous amount of recharge time (and cheese), so demanded caution in it’s use.  Félix had never put so much thought into loudly screaming a cat pun.

True Justice had no such problems.  All he had to do was touch someone and they would be entirely forgotten by everyone they cared about.  The best part, at least in True Justice’s view, was they too passed on this curse.  Everyone they touched was forgotten by all, with the exception of the toucher that is.

After spreading his curse sufficiently, True Justice perched himself to watch the destruction he wrought.  He saw a boy punch his boyfriend in the face when the latter tried to kiss him, a father desperately trying to prove that girl was his daughter, a woman on her first date being entirely looked over.  It was a wonderful feeling, to watch Paris suffer the pain he’d felt in that moment.

But it wasn’t enough.  He wanted to make ‘Ladybug’ and ‘Chat Noir’ suffer for replacing him and his team.  True Justice had chosen his perching spot just to draw them out – the roof of a building that _should_ have made it easy for the heroes to find him.  Even so, it took near half an hour for ‘Chat Noir’ to finally land (loudly, he might add) behind him.

“Haven’t we already done the copycat thing?”  The replacement commented.  “Though I must admit, this outfits much more unique.”

“Your response time is pathetic.”  True Justice responded, standing from the edge of the roof and slipping his baton into his hand.

“Excuse me?”  ‘Chat Noir’ frowned.  True Justice turned to him, extending the baton and holding it comfortably.  He could kill with the weapon, even without it’s extra advantages.

“Hand over your Miraculous.”  He instructed.  “Or I will take it.”

“You’re kitten right?”  The replacement said, smirking and slipping into a stance of his own.  “That’s not going to happen anytime soon.”  With nothing left to say, True Justice attacked.

The fight was over in barely five minutes.  True Justice made the first strike, his pokadot baton connecting with the others chest before ‘Chat Noir’ had a chance to block.  Winded, the other’s return strike was too wide and True Justice blocked it easily.  He swiped the replacements feet out from under him and ‘Chat Noir’ crashed to the ground.  Rolling his eyes, True Justice allowed the new hero a chance to get back up again.  The moment ‘Chat Noir’ found his footing he ran at True Justice, who merely side-stepped and kicked the other Chat in the back.

“This is pathetic.”  True Justice huffed.  “How are you meant to be my replacement?  You can barely walk.”

“What the hell does that mean?”  ‘Chat Noir’ demanded, face scrunched up in pain. He turned to strike and True Justice met it, their weapons locking them together.

“Has Plagg forgotten too?”  He asked, cold tone tainted with a touch of pain.  ‘Chat Noir’ frowned, thrown off by True Justice’s knowledge of the kwami.  True Justice used that confusion, tapping out of the lock and bringing his baton down harshly on the others back when he stumbled forward.  ‘Chat Noir’ cried out, colliding face first with the ground. He managed to almost get up to his knees, a hand covering his bleeding nose, before True Justice planted his foot on the replacements injured back and pushed him back to the ground.

There was a button on True Justice’s weapon, right where it used to be.  He pressed it and a sharp blade slipped from its hiding place at the end of the baton.  ‘Chat Noir’ gasped when the metal pressed lightly at the base of his neck.

“Your ladybug hasn’t come yet.”  True Justice noticed, dropping to press his knee into the replacements spine as his free hand move to Plagg’s ring.

“Don’t.”  ‘Chat Noir’ tried to protest but froze when True Justice pushed the blade a little harsher to his skin.  Pathetic.

“Perhaps she’s forgotten you.”  True Justice continued, pulling the ring from the replacements finger and standing back.  He turned away from the blinding light as ‘Chat Noir’ vanished into the replacements true form.

“ _Very impressive True Justice._ ”  The strange voice praised in his ear.  “ _Now, draw out Ladybug._ ”  True Justice ignored the instruction in favour of inspecting the ring.  It was different, completely different to the slim black ring he’d worn.  Plagg’s ring was still black, but a chunkier and completely lacking any imagery.

“Give it back.”  ‘Chat Noir’ wheezed.  His voice lacked the magical touch of the kwami, which kept it unrecognizable, and Félix knew that voice.  But True Justice didn’t care.  The ring fit perfectly onto his finger.

As the ring slipped into place, it washed away the strange voices influence.  Suddenly, his mind properly grasped the situation and he couldn’t believe himself.  Had he really been so pathetic to punish all of Paris?  How ridiculous!  Félix eyes widened as he remembered the undisguised voice of ‘Chat Noir’.  Turning on heel, he found _his brother who he’d just beaten up_ struggling to his feet.

“Oh my god Adrien.”   Félix breathed, his horror obvious in his tone.  How could he have done this?  “I’m so sorry.”  He added, rushing to help his brother to his feet and desperately hoping he hadn’t broken Adrien’s nose.

“It’s fine Félix.”  Adrien promised, words not very assuring considering his blood-stained lips and the way he clutched his stomach.  “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I could have killed you!”  Félix stressed.  It wouldn’t’ve been hard either, and if Adrien had put up much more of a fight he might’ve!

“I didn’t realize you were so good at fighting.”  Adrien said, trying to break the tension.

“He has a lot of practice.”  A third voice replied.  Plagg appeared from the new ring on Félix’s finger.  His tone was as indifferent as ever, but he was looking at Félix with an expression the boy couldn’t quite name.

“I never thought I would be happy to hear your voice.”  Félix greeted, Adrien’s injuries slipping from mind at the thought of someone who _remembered_ him.  Proof he hadn’t dreamed it all up.

Proof he hadn’t died in vain.

“Likewise.”  Plagg huffed, though it was more a purr really.

“Uh…”  Adrien spoke up, looking between the two with a confused frown.  “You guys… know each other?  How’s that even possible?”

“We’ll talk about it later.”  Plagg dismissed the question before Félix could have the chance to try.  “Fé, you have to give my ring back.”  Félix tensed at the idea.

“What about the voice?”  Félix protested.  “I believe whoever it is has some level of control over emotions.  He’s able to focus them, morph them into something darker.” 

“Papillion.”  Adrien spat the name live acid, usually kind face suddenly glaring.  “We know.”

“Who?”  Félix frowned, vaguely recalling the name from the LadyBlog articles he’d skimmed.  The modern Collector, as far as he could tell.

“It’ll be fine.”  Plagg assured.  “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“But the akuma?”  Adrien frowned, saying another word Félix only half-recalled.

“It’ll be fine.”  Plagg repeated, rolling his eyes.  He looked expectantly to Félix and the blond knew this was it.  He had to take the ring off.  Félix looked down to the new ring, chunky and unfamiliar.

He couldn’t do it.

“Félix?”  Adrien prompted softly.  Félix looked over and saw his brother was anxious, looking between his face and the ring nervously.  He wasn’t sure if Félix was going to give it up, only fair when Félix wasn’t sure he _could_.  It felt like only moments ago he’d died protecting this ring, how could he just give it up?

“He and Ladybug haven’t revealed their identities to each other Fé.”  Plagg pointed out.  “She’ll be here any minute.”  Félix looked back to him.

“Is it really fine?”  He asked, quiet and unsure. 

“Fu thought so.  I think so.”  Plagg assured, not giving him the same hurt look that crossed Adrien’s face.  Félix trusted his brother, really.  But this wasn’t about that.  Félix took a deep breath and forced himself to remove the ring, placing it in Adrien’s hands with more difficulty than he’d like to admit.  He looked away as Adrien transformed, actually having to face that Adrien was the new Chat Noir.  Félix wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“You still you?”  Adrien asked.

“I’m fine Adrien.”  Félix assured.  “Are you?”  He added, eyeing the now hidden injuries he’d created. 

“I’m fine Félix, I promise.”  Adrien grinned.

“Chat!”  Ladybug landed gracefully next to Adrien, immediately noticing the blood on his face.  Her appearance made Félix freeze.  She looked almost identical to his Ladybug, her suit the same in almost every aspect.  “Are you alright?” She repeated Félix’s question.  Despite what Adrien claimed, he clearly wasn’t okay.  Old guilt coursed through Félix as Adrien turned to her, giving her the same expression he’d once give Mari.  Only Adrien… Adrien looked sincere.

Félix couldn’t watch this anymore.

Hoping she was too distracted to notice, Félix turned to leave.  Clearly, he’d underestimated his best friend’s replacement.  Before he could leap away her yoyo wrapped around his ankle and he was yanked to the harsh ground.

“Ladybug, wait!”  Adrien quickly protested.  “He’s not under Papillion’s control anymore.”

“How?”  Ladybug frowned.  Her eyes were trained on Félix, narrowed with suspicion and anger.

“That’s uh…”  Adrien gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly not wanting to tell his Ladybug that Félix had lost his ring.

“It was taken care of.”  Félix answered for him.

“Your akuma still needs to be purified.  If you’re not under Papillion’s control, hand it over.”  Ladybug demanded, holding her hand out impatiently.  Félix tensed, looking to the ring he could just tell was the source of his new power.  It was slim, with an angular cat’s face on the front.  The face was adorned with emerald eyes, a ruby rested in it’s forehead.  It looked exactly as his old one had, in fact he was pretty sure it _was_ his old one however impossible that had to be.

New Ladybug or not, Félix couldn’t give up this ring.  He’d already lost so much, why couldn’t he keep this one thing?

“No.”  He refused, glaring harshly enough to make her flinch.  Before she could react, Félix had freed himself from the yoyo and left.  It took mere minutes for Félix to have lost the new heroes in the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to upload, but if it does I'll at least be uploading a second nelix fic soon so theres that

**Author's Note:**

> [ Don't forget to check this out if you're into lgbta+ content!!](http://kails-musings.tumblr.com/post/174812529530/lgbta-monthly-stories)


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